You know when you can't get a grip and you think you're gonna trip, it's good to go back in your mind to a better place and a better time. I want to tell you about my mom. I never called her mother, it seemed like a bad word in our house. She was mom and a good one at that!
I got my craftiness from her, my singing voice, baking skills, sewing expertise, I could go on and on. She was a-fricking-mazing! There was nothing she couldn't do or figure out. I rarely beat her in a game of gin rummy and her word skills were second to none. She proof read every high school essay I handed in and as a wordsmith she penned many beautiful poems like this one:
ORCHARD FANTASY by Joan Lybarger
The fairies had a party
And danced all through the night
Stringing blossoms on the cherry trees
Like popcorn - puffy white
And now the bees are buzzing
From red-barked tree to tree
Spreading pollen on the flowers
Where the plump ripe fruit will be
I miss her every day. When I write a great song or sew something fantastic, I want to call her and tell her, but she's not there. When I'm sad or angry, I think, what would she say about it? I still try to make her proud, although I'm sure she turns over in her grave every time I light up a spliff or eat junk food till I burst.
She was always willing to help others, volunteering for many organizations. She fed the hungry, sewed clothes for needy children and entertained the elderly; singing with my dad and their band. She was still performing at the age of 80 and loving it! When we visited her for her birthday, she said in wide eyed wonder,"Can you believe I'm 80 and still doing gigs?" My dad is 84 and he's still playing concerts. I guess it runs in the family and I'm glad of that. Mom loved to wear pink, that was her colour, and she looked pretty hot in a mini dress. With no makeup on and carefully pin curled hair, she always looked her best. Suffice it to say, I love her and all the gifts she bestowed upon me.
Halloween was fun at our house. Mom would help us make all our own costumes and kept it up each year. Because of her, I am now an expert costume maker. I lent them our Cleopatra and Mark Antony one year and another year, we made her into an alien.
These are the wild memories I speak about in my song. When I sink into a pit of depression I soak in a hot bath and think back to an earlier time and take solace in sweet recollections of happy, wonderful moments.
'Wild Memory' is a tribute to her and the journey through my mourning process. Mark helped out with a nice bass line while Frank Ferranda plays beautiful, tasty guitar riffs throughout the song. It has an old jazz-blues-swing style which may tickle the fancy of Patsy Cline fans. I try to gently lull the listeners into a meditative state of mind where daydreaming is not only allowed but encouraged. My mom lived very much under my own philosophy which is to Love, Laugh and Dance!
Miss you mom. ~*.*~ Lea Sheldan
To listen to Wild Memory right now, click here:
https://twistedgitarco.wixsite.com/leasheldan-1/songs
To listen and download on Spotify click here:
https://open.spotify.com/album/7h9uSL03sGlp9g9v8hlSxH?si=EIiatXFjRuKb67VB8fCboA
Sing along with the lyrics below:
Wild Memory
If you can’t get a grip and you think you’re gonna slip
Take a ride on a wild memory
If you don’t know where to go and your feet are moving slow
Go and hide in a wild memory
When something’s got you down and you’re smile is now a frown
Take a ride on a wild memory
If you’re feeling blue and don’t know what to do
Go and hide in a wild memory
Take your mind off the hassle
Put aside what’s got you baffled
When the world gets a little complicated
Lay back and start day-dreaming
Go back in time, swim in the haze
Think about some happier days
If you’re losing your grip and think you’re gonna trip
Take a ride on a wild memory
Take your mind off the hassle
Put aside what’s got you baffled
When the world gets a little complicated
Lay back and start day-dreaming
Go back in time, swim in the haze
Think about some happier days
If you’re losing your grip and think you’re gonna trip
Take a ride on a wild memory
Go and hide in a wild memory
Just take a ride on a wild memory
written by Lea Sheldan
copyright 2018 Socan
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